


Moment by Moment

by phanmindpalace



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Suicide mention, depressed phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 16:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanmindpalace/pseuds/phanmindpalace
Summary: Today is one of Those Days where Phil can't breathe for the intensity of his depression. Dan will always be there for him.





	Moment by Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on my own experiences with depression, and it was kind of an outlet on a not so good day. I'm not saying Phil really does have depression! I didn't want to write Dan as the depressed character because it felt weird to me because that's too close to the truth. Though on that basis, I should feel weird about writing about their relationship lol. Anyway, have a messy, depression oneshot.

From the moment Phil’s eyes opened and came into focus, he knew it was destined to be one of Those Days. Nothing felt right; everything felt wrong, and he couldn’t help but question the purpose of his very existence. Once he fell down this particular rabbit hole of depressive thoughts, Phil knew the day was over before it’d even had the chance to begin.

As he lay there, he felt paralysed by the heavy feeling settling through his body, pulling him down into the mattress as though he would never be able to climb out of bed again. Perhaps he wouldn’t. Perhaps he would forever lay there, unable to coax a single muscle into moving.

In that moment, nothing felt worthy of the pain he was feeling - not YouTube, not dogs or kittens or the upcoming tour...not his Mum’s cooking, or tumblr or pancakes...not even his ever-supportive boyfriend, Dan.  _His_ Dan.

Phil absolutely despised himself for these thoughts. Hatred boiled his blood as he considered just how terrible a person he must be that not even Dan was enough. Dan had done nothing but stand beside him for the past 10 years, holding his hand, wiping away each tear and whispering soothing words of comfort every time his depression was too much to bear. He’d listened as Phil had wept, screamed, punched and thrashed about in agony that no antidepressant had so far managed to sate. Dan had cried as Phil had numbly told him that he didn’t want to live anymore; he’d hugged him, soothed him, and silently held him that whole night, never once letting go.

He’d been there through his lowest moments, and Phil’s stomach twisted at the thought of how even his beautiful, loving boyfriend wasn’t enough to convince him that life was worth living. He loved Dan; he adored him, and nothing and nobody in the world compared to him, but that’s just what his depression did to him. It made him into a paradoxically numb, yet fiercely pained individual with no enthusiasm to face the world. The very _thought_ of moving even just his little finger sent his brain into a spiral of ‘I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.’

Phil had become so caught up in the intensity of his pain that he’d entirely forgotten that Dan lay asleep next to him.

“Phil?” Dan whispered groggily as he woke up to see his boyfriend lying a foot away from him, staring up at the ceiling. Phil made no attempt to move, and remained unblinking as Dan shuffled across the bed toward him.

“Philly?” Dan sighed worriedly. He knew what this was. It bore the hallmark of Phil’s mental illness, and today was just going to be one of those days in which his boyfriend was unreachable. Dan would love him, comfort him and support him as he always did, but he knew that until this episode passed, Phil wasn’t there. _His_ Phil had burrowed deep within himself, and was hiding away until the agonising pain subsided. Dan had come to learn that the medical term for this was disassociation. Phil was keeping himself safe until his head wasn’t so loud.

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil, pained that his boyfriend made no attempt to reciprocate his love. Instead, Phil was stiff, unmoving. “I’ve got you, Dibs. I’m here.”

Phil could vaguely hear Dan’s soft tone murmuring reassurance; he could feel his arms firmly holding him, but for all he was worth, he couldn’t bring himself to turn over and gaze into those eyes he loved so much. His head was screaming. On these days, one phrase circled round and round and round Phil’s head: ‘where am I?’ Of course, he knew he was in his flat, he knew he was in the moon room, and he knew he was lying under his duvet next to the love of his life, but that only accounted for his physical form. The Phil inside, who was usually a fountain of creativity; the smile that could illuminate any room - the Phil he knew he truly was, was gone. Missing.

Dan kissed Phil’s cheek and shuffled to the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the floor and turning back to glance at Phil once more. His heart skipped as he watched Phil’s head turn every so slowly on the pillow to face him. Dan remembered what Phil’s therapist had told him; when his depression was too much to bear, Phil entered a state of permanent fight or flight. His body was fighting for survival, and all of its major functions were impaired. He would feel paralysed, slow, nauseated, and an overwhelming and agonising pain that despite being in his head, felt very much real. Dan didn’t blame him for it at all, but it was hard to watch.

Phil closed his eyes as Dan moved away from him, longing for the comforting touch his boyfriend provided him, but he couldn’t find it within himself to beg him to come back. Tears burned in his eyes as he fought to remain calm. The world was too much. Phil didn’t know how much of this pain he could take. Surely there was _something_ someone could do, he thought to himself, despair bubbling through him. With all of his might, he took a deep breath and told Dan what he desperately needed him to hear.

“I love you,” he croaked. He watched as Dan smiled sadly. It broke Phil’s heart to know that he was hurting Dan, and his self hatred only grew stronger as he reminded himself that Dan would be so much better off without him; so much happier, stronger and carefree.

“I know, and I love you too,” Dan replied softly. “I love you more than you believe, and more than you’ll ever know.” He rose from the bed and walked around to Phil’s side, kissing his nose and wiping away the fresh tears rolling down his boyfriend’s face. “I’m going to go and get your tablets ready. I’ll get one of the anxiety ones too because I think you could do with one of those today, right? And I want you to have some breakfast. Even just some dry cereal. Or I could make you bacon and eggs?”

Phil felt nauseated, and food was the last thing he wanted. Even the thought of water was sickening. “No food,” he muttered, but judging by how Dan’s expression became serious, he had a feeling that no food wasn’t an option.

“Dry cereal it is then,” Dan said, kissing Phil once more before disappearing upstairs to the kitchen.

—-

An hour later, Phil had managed a handful of cereal, a few sips of water, and was curled up across Dan’s lap on their sofa. Dan’s lips were gently placed upon Phil’s hair, kissing him every now and again as he traced his fingers along Phil’s arm.

“Dan?” Phil whispered, so quietly that Dan almost missed it. The house was silent; it was the only way Phil could endure the noise in his head, and Dan was more than okay with sitting in silence, holding Phil close and loving him if that’s what Phil needed.

“Today’s bad.”

“I know, but tomorrow might not be,” Dan replied, his voice cracking as he tried to keep himself composed for Phil’s sake. Thankfully, Phil’s back was to Dan’s chest, and so he didn’t see the single tear falling down Dan’s cheek.

“What if it is?” Phil asked. The thought of another day spent feeling the way he did right then was soul-destroying. It made him feel like he was about to throw up, and God knows that’d only make everything ten times worse.

“Then we take it moment by moment, and we wait until tomorrow  _isn't_ bad,” Dan reminded him gently. ‘Moment by moment’ was a mantra they lived by. In Phil’s darkest times, it was all they could do - take each moment as it came. That morning, Phil hadn’t been able to move a single muscle, but now he was cuddled into Dan, holding (an albeit minimal) conversation. A moment could bring a world of change, and Dan could see that even when Phil was blinded by his pain.

“What if tomorrow doesn’t come?” Phil worried anxiously, twisting a thread on his sweatshirt.

 “It will, I promise.”

And so they lay there together, silently appreciating one another’s company, and hoping for a day that didn’t hurt so much as this one. Dan knew nothing he could do would fix Phil completely; nothing within his power would mend Phil’s broken spirit, but he could be there, and he always would be. It was one of Those Days, and that was okay. They would endure it together, moment by moment.

 


End file.
